


running from the sun

by aukusti



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Internal Conflict, Light Angst, M/M, i forgot how to tag stuff, vague pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26709940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aukusti/pseuds/aukusti
Summary: Everything Akira does is purposeful and full of intent; from the way he watches the customers in Leblanc talk about the news, to the way he holds his school bag close to him, to the way their hands brush together gently every time Akira passes him a cup of coffee.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 2
Kudos: 54





	running from the sun

**Author's Note:**

> I wanna know where you go  
> When you tell me that you feel alone  
> I wanna know you  
> The way you want me to

Goro Akechi thinks the world stopped being funny a very, very long time ago.

It aligned with suddenly being moved from one foster home to another where he wasn't allowed to take all his belongings immediately. For the next week, he wore the same two shirts to school and everyone teased him for it, asking if his parents didn't care about him.

“I have none,” he would say simply, blankly, and the conversation would die.

(He lost his favorite sweater in that move.)

Meeting Akira Kurusu must be a reminder that the universe has a sense of humor, because a boy with his reputation shouldn't be able to catch (and keep) his attention so easily.

He does anyway, because Akira is Akira even if Goro doesn't entirely know what that means yet, and promises to put a bullet between his eyes before things escalate.

Playing at normal, he smiles when they greet each other and ignores the way Akira’s eyes seem to sparkle at him, the way butterflies rise in his stomach when he wasn’t ever sure he let them in.

He’s sweet, Goro comes to learn. Everything Akira does is purposeful and full of intent; from the way he watches the customers in Leblanc talk about the news, to the way he holds his school bag close to him, to the way their hands brush together gently every time Akira passes him a cup of coffee.

“So, uh,” Akira murmurs on a particularly quiet day, nobody in the coffee shop but the two of them. Sojiro had left about twenty minutes ago, grumbling something about needing to help Futaba, telling Akira to close up with a nod and a wave. He had nodded dutifully and they’d watched him leave without another word. “Want to come upstairs?”

Goro blinks at him. “I beg your pardon?”

Shrugging one shoulder, one of Akira’s hands finding the tips of his hair and tugging on it. “It’s pretty dead around here. I could close up and we could watch a movie. I mean, if you want to.”

He shouldn’t. He probably really shouldn’t. “I shouldn’t,” he says to Akira.

Akira huffs, and Goro blinks again. “Are you busy?”

Glancing around, he’s reminded that it’s just the two of them. “Ah,” Goro says, and meets Akira’s always shining eyes. “I suppose I’m not.”

The way Akira’s face softens shouldn’t make him fidget but it does. “I need a moment.”

And then he’s out from behind the counter in an instant, a gentle wind of movement surrounding him as he wipes down tables one last time before flipping the sign on the door. The Sayuri watches them as Akira takes off his apron, laying it down on the counter. “Ready?”

His insides might suddenly combust. “I believe so.”

Akira nods, turning to head up the stairs, and he follows.

The attic is as plain as he remembers from his previous time spent up here with the other Phantom Thieves, but as his eyes scan the room, they land on a small screen perched on the table across Akira’s bed. “Oh,” he says.

“Isn’t it great?” Akira pats the television as if it were sentient. “We found it in a secondhand shop.”

“We?” Goro sits delicately on Akira’s couch, watching him dig through a box by his bed.

“Yeah, Ann wanted to go thrift shopping, so, I mean.” He huffs, pulling out a DVD case. “I really have to remember to return this one of these days.”

Goro scrunches his nose. “We can’t watch an overdue movie, Kurusu. It isn’t ethical.”

“It totally is.” Akira sits next to him without warning, and he has to bite on his cheek to keep his soul in his body. “Don’t you want to watch, uh...” He squints at the cover. “Okay, yeah, on second thought maybe we shouldn’t.”

“I’m glad you have some sense somewhere in you,” Goro replies coolly, turning his body to face him. “Shall we go return it now?”

Akira’s eyebrows fly high above his glasses and into his messy mop of hair. “You want to go to Shibuya with me?”

“Oh,” is all Goro says because, yes, that’s very much what was implied.

He’s fiddling with the ends of his hair again. “Are you sure you have that much time to spare? I’m not taking you away from some major case that you're about to make a breakthrough in?”

“Kurusu,” Goro sighs, shaking his head in a way that he swears isn’t fond, not at all. “You brought me up here to spend time together, correct?”

“Maybe,” Akira responds, but it sounds faint over the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

“I don’t have any obligations today, otherwise I wouldn't be here,” Goro points out, and he doesn’t know why he’s sharing that.

“So,” Akira’s grin is spreading with every second, “You also wanted to spend time with me? Since you went out of your way and all?”

It takes him a minute to respond, of blinking slowly down at his own gloves before he lifts his head to look into Akira’s eyes to respond. “You offer me a… refreshing change of pace. I enjoy our time together, Akira.”

They share more than a glance; it feels like eternity. Akira's eyes are a striking shade of silver today, holding all the power needed to strip him bare. He knows it isnn’t about power with him, though. It never has been.

He tries not to resent him for that, the familiar feeling of a pistol in his hand one of the most familiar sensations to recall.

Goro must be making a face now, probably something as contorted and ugly as he feels, because Akira is getting closer to it, eyebrows creasing together in an expression he’s come to understand as concern.

“Goro.” Akira’s voice is finally reaching his ears, and he can hear the storm that will follow this incident as clear as day. “Everything okay?”

“I apologize,” he says, and he makes sure to put on his most well-behaved smile. It seems to do nothing for Akira. “I’m alright, yes. I have... dizzy spells on occasion.”

“On occasion,” Akira repeats, and he nods mutely. There’s no need in sharing more, not right now, hopefully not ever. “I didn’t know that.”

Goro sighs, and it takes more effort than he would like to admit. “I wouldn’t expect you to. It might be best for you to go to Shibuya on your own.”

Akira looks at him with that knowing gaze of his for a few more seconds before he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I’ll miss you.”

He might have something worse than any mental shutdown might do to him. “Miss me...?”

“In Shibuya,” Akira clarifies sheepishly, scratching at his arm. “On the train. It would’ve been fun to go with you.”

The air in the attic feels stale, dust particles floating and bouncing along every surface, clinging to every part of him. There’s no going back from _this_ , whatever this is.

It might be a mistake to say, “We can make arrangements to go some other day,” but Akira’s gentle smile makes him feel like something is starting to tear at his insides.

Goro tries to forget the phantom weight in his hand all the while.

**Author's Note:**

> title + beginning notes are both from you spent all your love by mega mango  
> thank you for reading


End file.
